


Truth (tag to 'Sateda')

by koalathebear



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag set at the end of the episode 'Sateda'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth (tag to 'Sateda')

Ronon wakes up with a violent shudder, his eyes blinking into the darkness of the room. Someone is sitting at his bedside.

"Dr Weir," he says immediately just as she asks him,"Are you all right Ronon?"

They both fall silent for a moment. It's very dark in his quarters and even though she has been sitting there by his bed for some time and her eyes have largely adjusted to the darkness, she is startled that he is able to recognise her.

"Fine," he says curtly, his voice slightly hoarse.

"How did you know it was me here?" she asks curiously. She reaches over and turns the bedside light on just enough to let them see. The light casts a warm and faintly intimate glow around them in his room. He watches silently as she pours him a glass of water, her face intent as fills the glass and hands it to him.

Ronon accepts the glass and raises it to his lips, draining it swiftly. The water slides down his parched throat effortlessly. Elizabeth takes the glass from him but says nothing.

"What are you doing here?" He demands almost brusquely.

"Carson knows how much you hate being in the infirmary. He thought it was all right to let you recover in your own quarters, but given that the pain medication will be wearing off - he thought it was best that someone sit with you."

"And that someone had to be you?" Ronon asks with a raised eyebrow. He knows he's being rude but pain is an understatement for the excruciating sensations in his leg. The agony is throbbing its way down his thigh, each stab of feeling more piercing than the last. It's all he can do not to let it show on his face. His eyes flicker to her face. She looks very tired but her eyes are still alert.

"Here, you should take these," Elizabeth says calmly as if he hasn't spoken.

"I don't want to take them," he tells her. Elizabeth raises her eyebrows in her cool fashion.

"From what I hear, you were battered pretty badly - and I saw that gash in your leg. Carson took quite a while to pull out all the shrapnel."

Ronon stares down at the pills that she is holding in the palm of her hand.

"I don't need the pills," he says deliberately, aware that the pain is starting to make his hands shake. He clenches his fists and lies back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he breathes deeply, concentrating as he diverts his mind from the pain.

Elizabeth frowns in concern, her forehead creasing in her characteristic expression of worry.

"Ronon - I know you're in pain. Please - these aren't very strong and they will help."

"Just talk," Ronon tells her as he struggles to control his breathing.

"I'd like to talk about why you're being so stubborn," Elizabeth says grimly, exasperation threading through her voice. "Bravado and heroics aren't going to impress anyone."

"I don't need the drugs. Seven years - I survived. I got by," he tells her.

"That time is past now, Ronon. You don't have to 'get by' on your own anymore. You don't think that it's time you let yourself start to accept that?"

Ronon's eyes are closed, his dark lashes resting on the tanned skin of his cheeks. The pain is slowly receding, lapping at the edges of his consciousness as he focuses on the cool, concerned voice of the woman sitting beside him. She asked him how he knew it was her. He would have recognised the soft, elusive fragrance of Dr Elizabeth Weir anywhere. It doesn't matter whether she is wearing a costly fragrance from Earth, an herbal lotion made by the Athosians or the plain regulation soap that they all use - there is no mistaking Elizabeth's scent. Her mere presence calms him more than the drugs could.

"You haven't told me why it's you sitting here?" he asks her, slowly opening his eyes and studying her with unblinking stillness.

Elizabeth exhales slowly but doesn't reply and Ronon smiles slowly.

"You worry about us all the time. The members of your team," he comments. Elizabeth nods. Ronon has seen how anxious Elizabeth can be when her people are off-world. He has seen the way she paces, the way her gaze flickers back constantly to the Gate. When the Gate is dialled and an authorisation code is entered, she is always tense as she waits for the information to be conveyed to her.

"So you were worried about me today?" he asks her curiously, his dark eyes not moving from her face.

"Yes. When you were taken prisoner, we were all very concerned. Then when we heard that you had been taken back to Sateda - we became even more concerned."

The mention of Sateda makes the darkness return to Ronon's eyes and his face becomes closed and shuttered once more, the faint smile fading instantly.

"It must have been very difficult for you - going back there again," Elizabeth says gently.

There is a faintly mocking expression on Ronon's face. "I take it Dr Heightmeyer thought that this was a good idea?"

Elizabeth looks rueful. "You've always refused to talk about it before. With Sheppard. With Teyla. She thought that given what happened today, perhaps - "

"And what makes you think that I'll want to talk about it with _you_?" he asks her deliberately. His voice is a deep rumble and the expression on his face is not encouraging. The corner of his firm mouth turns up slightly.

"I'm a good listener," Elizabeth ventures.

Ronon's eyes travel over her slowly, taking in her dark hair that falls about her face in elegant waves. He lingers on the sharp angles of her face, her straight posture and then his eyes travel over her blouse, lingering insolently on her breasts before moving back up to her face.

"I've thought about you in my bed. That doesn't mean I want to talk to you," he tells her coolly.

Elizabeth controls her flinch with an effort, her eyes widening and Ronon knows that his words have hurt her.

He mutters beneath his breath, angry at himself for having wounded her. "Aren't there things in _your_ life that you don't want to talk about?" he counters.

Elizabeth smiles a smile that does not reach her eyes. She swallows hard.

"Yes. Of course."

"So you should understand," Ronon tells her.

"Yes and Dr Heightmeyer has had words with me about how unhealthy it is for _me_ to bottle things in as well," she tells him and now there is a faint smile in her eyes. Ronon resists the urge to reach out and draw her down to him. He resists the urge to find out how it would feel to have that tautly controlled body of hers with its slim curves pressed against his own.

"Sheppard told me about a saying that they have on earth about black pots and black kettles," Ronon says with a wry smile.

"I'll tell you what. How about a truth for a truth?" she suggests. "I'll tell you a truth, and you tell me a truth. Any truth will do."

Ronon looks at her warily. Before he can agree or disagree she has started the game.

"When I was fifteen, I stole cigarettes from the corner store. I made myself sick smoking them - but I thought I was so mature and tough."

Ronon smiles, amused by the image of a tough adolescent Elizabeth. He pauses for a moment and then speaks. "When I was only seven, I almost drowned in the sea. I swam out too far and my father had to rescue me." He remembers the small, wet shivering boy enduring the scolding from his father.

"I owned a dog when I was a little girl. My mother wanted me to have a genteel Cavalier King Charles but I went to the pound and bought the largest, mangiest and most unloved mutt of a mongrel you ever did see."

"The skies are like a map to me - I can never lose my way as long as I can see the stars."

"I loved a man named Simon, but learned first hand that long distance relationships don't last. The last time I returned to Earth, I discovered that he had fallen in love with another woman," Elizabeth says with a forced smile.

Ronon is very still as he watches her.

"My wife was a doctor. A healer like Dr. Beckett. I watched her die before my eyes."

Elizabeth's face is mute with sympathy but she squares her shoulders. "I'm very scared of mice."

"I like the blue jelly they serve in the commissary."

That makes them both smile.

"When I'm waiting for teams to return from off-world, it feels like there's a fist in my gut."

"I watched my men die around me and there was nothing I could do."

"Every time I lose a member of the expedition team - I feel as though I have failed."

"When I was running from the Wraith, I was terrified. And lonely." He reaches out a hand as if to touch her cheek but stops himself as it is inches away from her skin.

"I wish you would call me Elizabeth," she whispers and his dark, dark eyes stare into hers steadily.

"I have travelled to many planets, and not once have I encountered a woman who is your equal," he tells her bluntly.

"Sometimes Rodney drives me insane."

"You drive me crazy all the time," Ronon says quietly.

Elizabeth's breathing is slightly ragged. She is leaning towards him. He is leaning towards her, ignoring the fierce pain in his leg.

"During briefings, sometimes I want to put my mouth against the tattoo on your neck," she confesses.

"I've seen the way you watch me and I wonder if you're wanting the same things I am."

"Yes."

Ronon raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be giving me a truth for a truth?" His hand traces the clean lines of her jaw and she closes her eyes, her blood singing at his touch. Ronon marvels at how smooth and soft her skin is. He wants her and the intensity of his feelings are overwhelming. She doesn't answer him and Ronon's knuckles caress her cheek wonderingly.

"Elizabeth," he whispers and the curve of her mouth makes him forget even the pain in his leg.

The doors slide open abruptly. "Elizabeth - I think two shifts is more than enough. I think it's time you let someone else guard the surly beast," McKay announces loudly as he walks through the door. His voice trails off as he stares in shock, glancing back and forth between the two of them, noting the intimate way that they are leaning towards one another.

McKay's mouth open and closes but for once no sound emerges. He gapes for a moment longer and then with great effort, regains the power of speech.

"Elizabeth - you're tired. You should get some rest. Ronon - you're delirious. You also need rest."

Elizabeth rises to her feet reluctantly. Ronon reaches out and his fingers tangle with hers for a moment, long cool fingers brushing against hers in the slightest of clasps. She reaches out to run a fingertip down his cheek.

"Will you _stop_ that?" Rodney demands, hurrying forward and ushering Elizabeth hastily towards the door.

"Good night, Ronon," she says.

"Sleep well, Elizabeth," Ronon says huskily.

" _Elizabeth?_ You're calling her _Elizabeth_ now?" Rodney demands incredulously as he pushes Elizabeth out the door. He returns to Ronon's bedside.

"Now look here, Ronon. Elizabeth's a grown woman, but I swear if you hurt her - "

Ronon closes his eyes and allows the sound of McKay's protective monologue to wash over him. It becomes white noise.

Elizabeth Weir is more brilliant than any star in the Pegasus Galaxy and Ronon has finally rediscovered a path that he has long thought was lost to him forever.


End file.
